The Undying Fire
by Adrian Bamforth
Summary: An eccentric scientist announces that he is building a machine which will transport him through the fourth dimension. His friends fear he has become obsessed with being reunited with his deceased wife, though one of the group, known as 'The Doctor', encourages them to allow him to present his findings, and perhaps shed light on why he and Ace seem to be lost in the Victorian age.
1. Chapter 1

"He's been this way ever since he lost his wife." said the Politician. "The poor man's become eccentric. Believe me, I have his best interests in mind when I say we shouldn't appease him."

"I concur", remarked the Psychologist. "God knows, I like the man. By all accounts he was a devoted husband, and his loss has crippled him with grief. He blames himself. He spends all his time alone in his workshop and when I see him he barely exchanges pleasantries. He speaks only of wild theories. He thinks time is 'fluid'."

The Doctor was crouched by the fireplace, closely studying the curling of the eddies of grey smoke and the glowing flecks of ash which circled like dying stars. He was dressed in a black suit, waistcoat and cravat, and held an ebony cane with what looked like a question mark built into its handle, though this, he knew, was for effect. The fire cast a flicker across the drawing room and its well-heeled occupants. The Doctor felt all eyes landing on him as the resident 'man of science'.

"Oh, I say let him present his theories" said The Doctor. "Look around you at your libraries built on the works of those once deemed of 'unsound mind'. Discovery is a fire to keep stoked!"

He glanced across at Filby sitting on a chair by the door, who had remained silent for most of the evening. Filby looked oddly uncomfortable in his suit and would nervously shift his gaze around the room. Herbert walked in, his hair unkempt, carrying a brown leather satchel, muttering apologies for his lateness.

"Herbert, dear boy, it's so good to see you", said the Lawyer, moving to shake Herbert's hand but, on seeing it occupied, gently squeezing his arm instead. "We've all been looking forward to catching up with your endeavours. We've heard such rumours!"

The maid arrived bearing a silver tray containing a bottle of port, six crystal glasses and a newspaper. She placed the drinks on the table, walked over to The Doctor and gestured toward the periodical with a wink. The Doctor examined the date beneath the title: 3rd April 1895. The stories included the election of Lord Salisbury and the scandal gradually consuming Oscar Wilde at the height of his powers.

"Good work, Ace."

Ace was surprised at how easily she'd slipped back into the role – it had been a long time since she served cocktails on the Ice Planet Svartos. The uniform was hardly flattering, though it at least spared her of the stifling corsets she had become accustomed to during their earlier adventures in the era.

Pausing only to adjust the angle of an ornate clock on the mantelpiece, The Doctor headed to the table where discussion was already underway regarding Herbert's work. Herbert was animated, though distant, his eyes never meeting those of his audience, whose expressions ranged from curiosity to bemusement to sympathy.

"What I'm saying is," said the Politician, "even if the fourth dimension _is_ time, and we've no real proof of that, it is entirely academic. It's clearly of a completely different nature, that much is obvious. For instance, why can we not _see_ time?"

"Are you so sure we cannot?" the Psychologist interjected. "Are our surroundings not changing from one moment to the next, even as we remain static? See the fireplace – in an hour it may not burn for lack of fuel. And the hands of the grandfather clock - we may not see them moving at a glance, but over time we can see this to be true. Time is built into its mechanism."

"Exactly" said Herbert. "We cannot see the dimension of time because we are enveloped in it. As the one intractable force in our lives, we know nothing else. We have no distance. Each of us, and everything that surrounds us, is moving on a steady, unwavering path forward, never back."

"There's no escaping that" said the Lawyer. "There isn't a man here who wouldn't go back and change parts of their history if they could, correcting their miscalculations and prolonging their joys. What do you say, Doctor?"

"It's certainly an intriguing idea. But no, I wouldn't recommend it. And it could never be possible, not with any technology which exists today."

"Are you so sure, Doctor?" questioned Herbert. "You said yourself that science and discovery must move forward. Can we afford to leave this new realm uncharted and accept the cruelties of history? What if... what if wars, famines, pestilence could all be undone? Do we have the moral right to ignore these abhorrent things from our privileged position?"

"Let me get this right," the Politician interjected, "Are you actually proposing that this could be a practical thing? That we could actually turn back or reset time?"

"Maybe not for a whole world, but with a device capable of carrying a man... like a carriage, but traversing a different plane..."

Herbert opened his satchel and removed a selection of items; a large bell jar, a paper packet and what looked like a wooden cube about the size of a pint pot. The cube was patterned on all sides with square panels in grids. He opened the packet and proceeded to pour its contents, which looked like iron filings, around the cube. The spectators looked on, confounded by the whole operation.

"Gentlemen, I want you to be witnesses to this small experiment", Herbert enthused. "Watch carefully - if this is successful I can only do it once."

He lifted off the top of the cube, which came away to reveal a mechanism inside much like the inner workings of a clock, and began to make some adjustments to its workings. The spectators barely had the chance to make out its various cogs and springs before he shut the mechanism back into its housing. Dropping to eye level with the cube, He placed the bell jar over the whole arrangement. There was a prolonged silence, though Herbert didn't register any awkwardness as he gazed into the glass dome, waiting for it to begin. Then, one by one, the spectators began to notice the strange behaviour of the iron filings, which seemed to be drawing toward the cube, then clinging to it on all sides as if it were itself a magnet. After a few seconds, the cube affected a jerky motion, rattling on the table as if subject to a small earthquake, and stranger still, began to radiate an ethereal glow, flickering like a candle, then waxing and waning from view, emitting a dim hum across the table.

"It's... it's vanishing!" exclaimed The Lawyer.

"No, it's simply moving", corrected Herbert.

"Moving? Where to?"

"To the future. Soon, it will be an hour, a day, a week into our future. I haven't perfected the controls yet, all I can say is it will cease to exist in the time we are experiencing now."

"It must be a magic trick", declared the Politician.

The hum grew stronger and soon the device was disappeared from view almost entirely. Then, suddenly, its form sharpened once more and the device bounced around the jar, the hum fading away. A stilled silence occupied the room, eventually broken by a visibly upset Herbert as he tried to piece together the mechanics of what had gone wrong.

"I... I didn't get the settings correct. It's highly temperamental. If I can just..."

"Look, old boy", interjected the Lawyer, "I'm not sure exactly how you achieved that little effect, but I suggest you 'fess up to this demonstration of smoke and mirrors in the spirit of good humour."

"But we just saw..." said the Politician.

"I have been party to several performances by the conjurer Neville Maskelyne at the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly, whereupon he produced the most remarkable transformations and levitations as you would not believe, though on the insist that he was using deception alone. It is said that he has built an automaton which can beat any audience member at whist! And I have been to fairground sideshows in which projected photographs are seen to move and come to life. I'm told the French call it the 'cinematograph'."

The Psychologist, putting his hand on Herbert's shoulder, took a more consolatory tone: "Herbert, this show has been impressive, and I think you may have something, perhaps a new carnival novelty. But this talk of the forth dimension... did you really think this could bring you together again with Anne? We know many turn to the supernatural in times of grief, and maybe there's something there too, but I cannot condone the lengths you're going to."

The conversation moved onto other affairs of the day with an uncanny ease, and the evening passed without any more mention of what had been witnessed, until eventually, the visitors filed out, leaving only Herbert, The Doctor and Ace, who had dutifully returned to clear the evening's detritus. Herbert leaned with both hands against the mantlepiece, his head slumped toward the dying embers.

"Doctor, you are yourself a scientist. My experiments... am I doing the right thing?"

"I believe in years to come, the world will look back and honour those from this age who built great machines, but be less forgiving of those who became them. I also believe you are following your heart, and that is never the wrong thing, even for a scientist. But perhaps it's the wrong time."

The Doctor lifted the bell jar, picked up the cube device still on the table and studied it closely, rotating it in his fingers like a cob.

"You say that this machine could be made on a larger scale?"

"Yes, I have built the carriage, but the workings are still very early in development, and I fear even with its engine the vehicle will be extremely unsafe without a better understanding of the effect its use would have on a living thing."

"Then I'd very much like to see your vehicle. I can assure you I will treat your work with the greatest confidence."

Herbert jumped to his feet, his spirit returning and a boyish grin spreading across his face. "Then I invite you to my laboratory across town! It's not far and it's not too late to take a cab. I'll give Miss Ace the rest of the evening off."

"Can I come too?" said Ace, "I've always wanted to see a real cyberpunk..."

"I'm sure what she mean is", interrupted The Doctor, silencing her with a nudge, "she would be honoured to become acquainted with her master's work."

"It's alright Doctor, I have noticed my housemaid's streak of wild curiosity, and indeed an interest in things scientific. It's quite endearing. In my circle such things are strictly of a male concern, though one hears of the like of Florence Nightingale, a statistician of Mayfair who's work is every part that of a medic like yourself. Perhaps you become acquainted at a medical conference?" Herbert paused, his memory failing him momentarily. "Er, remind me, where exactly was it we met, Doctor?

The Doctor was in the process of formulating a suitably cryptic reply when the room echoed with a distant sound; an animalistic screech of anguish and defence, yet broken like the chirp of a cricket, and unlike that of any known urban dweller. Herbert froze, a deathly look in his eyes.

"The sound... we must leave this place."

"You've heard it before haven't you?" said Ace.

"Yes, yes, I am haunted by it. I know not the nature of the beast, only that we are not safe here".

The Doctor and Ace exchanged glances as Herbert purposefully grabbed his satchel and coat and headed for the front door.

"There's no time to lose, please, accompany me, I can hear a hansom cab, if we are swift we can catch it."


	2. Chapter 2

The gaslamp flared, then settled, to reveal a laboratory bestrewn with apparatus; glass valves, soldering irons, electrical generators, forges and strange machine parts, its walls lined with blueprints and scrawled equations. Herbert lit more lamps, then started dusting off contraptions and running up and down ladders to collect various components from the heaving shelves. To The Doctor, it was evocative of a certain scrapyard he had encountered during an earlier trip to the planet. Perhaps because of this, his eyes were drawn to the ten-foot tall rectangular structure which sat at the back of the room, obscured by a large sheet.

"Professor, do you think...?" whispered Ace.

The Doctor looked across the slew of mechanical parts taking up the various benches, then set about Ace with a quizzical expression.

"Tell me, do you have any recollection of how we arrived in this place? I mean, the Victorian era?"

"I just remember one minute being in the Tardis, then I woke up as a house-servant!"

"Indeed", said The Doctor, now using his cane as a some kind of measuring device on the debris. "There's nothing unusual about the Tardis' erratic nature, and we know it has a habit of taking one not where one means to go but where one need to be, but there's usually at least some form of _landing_. It's as if it had been pulled by a gravitational force far stronger than usual and everything, even us, ended up scattered across the crash site."

The Doctor turned his attention to bookshelf's mostly scientific titles, occasionally pulling one out to check its accuracy before returning it to its place in a satisfied fashion. Then, finding a tome which interested him particularly, settled at a small reading table where a gas lamp provided illumination. Ace turned over one of the room's many blackboards covered both sides with arcane-looking algorithms far beyond her own enviable physics knowledge.

"This is so much better than the house – real boffin stuff, like something out of Professor Brainstawm!"

"Come now Ace, don't tell me you don't find any of this this familiar? The demonstration? Did you not read any Victorian fiction at school? The War of the Worlds? The Invisible Man?"

"Was that one they made the black-and-white film of? It was wicked! We had one teacher who tried to get us interested in the books but I told myself I'd catch up later. Then the whole thing with the nitroglycerin and the time storm happened."

"Then I must remember to pay a visit your school governor."

"Ah, I see you're making yourself acquainted with my collection", said Herbert, bearing a stack of yet more unsorted volumes. "It's all freely available work though I don't believe anyone else has assembled it in one library before. Some of the more obscure titles are of a highly fantastical nature and hardly stand up to today's rigorous analysis, but I feel there are some interesting metaphysical themes."

The Doctor placed his book on Herbert's already unwieldy pile. "Ah, metaphysics, the study of being and reality! Is the world we see about us real, or just a projection of our needs? Does this bookshelf exist independent of us, its observers, and if not, what are all the bookends for? Can a man have tea and no tea at the same time? Clever folks, those ancient Greeks, though I never really warmed to the togas."

Herbert abandoned the books and joined The Doctor by the reading table.

"The demonstration, Doctor, back at the house... why did they not see what we saw? I know there are some things which can be dismissed – spirits, visions, perhaps these are a trick of the light on the vulnerable mind... well, my mind may be vulnerable too but we must respect the reality of what _is_, what we see plainly with our own eyes, despite all we don't understand or wish not to accept."

"You really loved Anne didn't you?" observed Ace.

"It's true I mean to be reunited, that is my resolve. Anne was not an average woman. Not that you are average, Miss Ace, I know from the while you've been in my employ you are very inquisitive, wide-eyed, and you'll make a fine wife for somebody. But Anne... Anne was stolen from me with neither warning nor time to say goodbye. We had told each other, as people do, that we would wait for each other, if there was a way, beyond death. Well, I know that's not possible, I'm certain of it. Religion doesn't have the answers, Darwin showed us that. There is no future reunion, only the past."

The Doctor softened, his voice sympathetic. "You wish to use your machine to travel back, maybe change certain events?"

"I can do it Doctor, and safely. And when I've done it I can show you and everyone else that we need not _mourn_."

Ace stepped forward and embraced Herbert, much to his surprise at this flouting of social convention, then reminded himself that Miss Ace was not exactly a woman of social convention.

The Doctor, indicated toward the large covered item.

"So this is the 'time cabinet' itself?"

"Yes, though, as I say, its really just the carriage, it is quite dull on its own."

The Doctor pulled at the cloth, unveiling the tall blue panelled construction beneath. Despite the lack of of Police Box sign, lamp and associated decoration there was no mistaking its features. Ace stifled a yelp, then ran forward and patted it, as if reunited with a missing pet.

"But It has a certain charm", said The Doctor.

Ace noticed its door slightly ajar. Hesitantly, she pulled on its brass handle and peeked into the gloom, hoping to hear that warm, familiar hum and glimpse that welcoming, unfathomable labyrinth. Yet there was indeed little more than a small interior space housing a wooden seat and rudimentary control panel made up of a few metal levers and dials.

"The engine, of course, is yet to be completed and installed, though the cabinet is vital – it forms a seal between the forces within and without, the two time speeds if you like, like a vacuum flask, or the bell jar you witnessed earlier. But if you give me a moment I can bring you the designs. I have them, of course, under lock and key."

Herbert headed excitedly to a small interconnected office room, leaving The Doctor and Ace alone with the proto-Tardis.

"A time machine built in the steam age?" The Doctor mumbled, scanning the pile of dusty parts with his sonic screwdriver, selecting one, blowing off the dust and holding it up to the flickering light for examination. "No, there's extraterrestrial technology here, literally alien parts."

"From the Tardis?"

"No, I've a feeling this was well underway before we arrived. He's built some kind of temporal machine, something which accesses the time streams, open its doors, but it could never operate as transport. Unless..."

"What is it, Professor?"

"Unless, he created a _portal_, or even a _beacon_, something that could summon a time machine, or even two, pulling them them out of the ether like a hook and line!"

"That would explain how we got here!"

"Yes, but I think before us another Tardis arrived, and we're seeing it's debris scattering around". He fell silent for a moment, then: "The Bargrathis Protocols!"

"Professor?"

"The Bargrathris were a race of great scientists and explorers, who discovered the key to temporal travel and built time ships. But they were very methodical and realised the potential damage caused by such technology being exposed, when people aren't ready to deal with it responsibly. So they built a safety mechanism into the ships".

"Like the Tardis' chameleon circuit?"

"No, a localised dimensional generator! If a ship did arrive in the wrong place, or was detected, the mechanism would instantly create a bubble, a 'pocket dimension' surrounding the ship, which would suspend it, and anyone immediately around it, while its computers calculated the best course of action."

"Are you saying this place might not be real?"

"Who knows? This might be a mere figment of Herbert's imagination. See, the pocket universe feeds off your psyche and reshapes itself into somewhere you will feel safe and familiar."

Ace paced the lab, taking in every aspect, looking for 'glitches'. "I had a feeling there was something unreal about this place. But then I often had that feeling growing up in Perivale."

"There's anomalies all over the place if you know where to look. That newspaper – the election of Lord Salisbury doesn't happen for some months yet! Not to mention the obvious literary allusion". He picked up the book he'd been inspecting at the reading-table: The Time Machine, by HG Wells. "Poor Herbert he's probably forgotten everything about his real life."

"Not everything", suggested Ace, glancing over to a framed photograph of Anne. The Doctor gave an agreeing nod.

They were interrupted by a commotion outside, a cacophony of shouting, the braying of horses, and, one by one, police whistles joining the fray. Then, that strange, unearthly chirp.

"Professor, I've just thought of something – if the Bargrathis ship is here, where is its pilot?"

There was a thunderous crash and a shower of masonry and glass as an entire wall of the lab gave way, causing The Doctor and Ace to dive for cover. Then, through the dust, they caught their first sight of the creature in its twenty foot long insectoid form, its flailing antenna demolishing everything in its wake. Then, Herbert was there, his hands raised, not in defence or surrender, but a sacrificial gesture.

"Doctor, Miss Ace, get out of here, its me it wants! None will be safe until it has its quarry!"

"You don't understand!" cried The Doctor. "Its Filby! He's been trapped in human form but periodically returning to this, his true form. He's lashing out because he's confused and distressed! He doesn't mean to harm you but he could certainly kill by accident, so please just back away!"

Herbert turned his back to the creature, embracing his fate. "But perhaps that's what I want, Doctor "I know I've failed. Time travel won't work, we both know that, and I'll never see Anne again. I've sacrificed everything for my vain obsession. So what do I have left to live for?"

Ace leapt out and and pulled Herbert back, saving his life just as the roof above gave way. Clambering out from his cover, The Doctor slowly, passively, approached the creature. He studied its five glassy eyes like black billiard balls, and recognised something he had earlier seen in Filby; a vulnerability.

"It's okay, I am a pilot too. That's right isn't it? You were the pilot who crashed here, and now you're caught up in this realm just as we are. I see you remember your home planet. Such a beautiful world. I'll get you back there. I'm not sure how, but I'll try as hard as I can. But you have to let these people go."

Moments later, Herbert was beside him. "It's alright, Doctor, I believe I see its true face. I feel we are... both scared". He took the creature's mandible. "The Doctor says you're a pilot. It's something which I had sought to be. I can only wonder about the places you're travelled."


	3. Chapter 3

The two scientists sat together talking amidst the lab's ruins, the stars visible above them, as Ace comforted the pilot nearby. The street-dwellers had long gone, having found other things to do, or perhaps ceased to be as actors in this grand illusion. Whatever excitement had occurred earlier, Herbert was broken.

"I fear if indeed this is a realm created to enclose us, its borders remain sealed. In my selfish yearning I have brought calamity upon us all."

"Professor, you said this realm wasn't entirely of the ship's making – that it was using Herbert's psyche, feeding off it to shape itself."

The Doctor's eyes lit. "Herbert, if we are where I think we are, there's a chance you can change reality here, perhaps open a door, but you would have to convince it, this realm, that you've ceased your experiments and you're no longer a threat to the timestream. That's what's keeping us in this stasis!"

"That's easily said, Doctor, but look around – my work is already destroyed. What else would you have me do?"

The Doctor considered for a moment, then leapt to his feet. "You must think of Anne! But not as you usually do, trapped in a prison of longing and guilt. I wonder how long its been since you thought of her as you did in life, the light of her personality shining through the darkness of loss!"

Herbert recoiled. "I... I can't. The pain of thinking of her that way yet remaining forever parted would be too great. I would never recover from such a thing."

"You've been running away, burying yourself your experiments. But the walls are crumbling. Look, they're already fallen! You can't hold out against your true feelings. You've said yourself that your experiments cannot give you what you need. Embrace your memories, those pure, beautiful memories – that is the _real_ time machine!"

Herbert doubled in agony, then, out of the corner of his eye saw the framed photograph of he and Anne together amid the debris. The glass was broken and he had to smear the dust away, but the picture was embedded deep within him. It was their wedding day, he in full waistcoat, tails and white gloves, her in traditional white, her veil pulled up to reveal a kindly smile. Herbert could recall everything about her; the small giggles she would emit when he stumbled over his words when they first met, the way her hair was that little bit more red in the springtime. But she had never looked as beautiful as she had on that day.

"The lab is... disappearing!" observed Ace.

It was true; the scattered masonry, the broken glass, even the stars, all seemed to be boiling away, fading into pure light. The distant city sounds grew silent. Herbert slowly raised his head. He gave a start, but was somehow not afraid.

"My love", whispered Anne with a comforting smile.

She was dressed somewhat more casually than in the photograph, more 21st Century, but her countenance was unmistakable. He rose to embrace her, hardly noticing the vanished walls and sky at all.

"Anne, I've been, foolish. All this... is a poor tribute. I've been finding it hard to..."

"Shhhh, it's alright Bilbo", comforted Anne, taking his hands in hers. "I forgive you."

"Anne, I know you are a memory. Not an apparition, no something far truer. Oh, these past three years have been such turmoil, I'd forgotten how to remember. But now, this feeling... the sadness, oh the beautiful, sweet, sadness... I had locked you away for so long."

"You must know this", said Anne. "What happened, the climbing accident, it was just what it was. It couldn't be helped. It's time to forgive yourself and live your life for both of us. You gave me such happiness, now I'm releasing you to find it yourself."

Herbert nodded. She took his head in her hands, whispered a soft, final "goodbye" and gave him a small kiss. He kept his eyes closed, for he knew when he opened them Anne would be gone. Just a few more moments...


	4. Epilogue

"Bilbo?" giggled Ace.

"It was because I... well, let's just say I have interesting feet."

Herbert's office was reasonably sized for that of a university lecturer, though not what you would call academic-looking; in place of portraits of great pioneers of science and university alumni, framed posters: The Forbidden Planet, The Island of Dr Moreau, Metropolis and several of the Universal Studios 'monster' canon. The bookshelves heaved with the works of Newton, Einstein and Hawking, though the paperbacks strewn across the desk betrayed more pulpish fare: Ray Bradbury, Arthur C Clarke, Isaac Asimov. Ace was rifling through dog-eared movie magazines while The Doctor sipped long-awaited Earl Grey tea from a Planet of the Apes mug.

"The pilot, Doctor, I'm concerned, will it reach home?"

"As far as I can tell, when the ship's safety mechanism reset and the realm disappeared, the ship was released too, leaving its pilot free to navigate home. Of course, the ship is still a memory to you but it no longer sees you as a threat."

"I assure you I will dispose of my work very soon, the device and everything to do with it". Herbert refilled his mug with the last of the pot, then picked out the rogue fragments of leaf with a teaspoon. "But memories, Doctor... it will be hard, I know. There will be times when memories won't feel enough. But I cannot, like yourself live in the eternal. We must walk onward, through joy, loss, discovery... it is a good way. And we must direct out learning toward building technologies which preserve lives."

The Doctor glanced across to the framed photo on Herbert's desk – Herbert and Anne once more on their wedding day, but its 2013, he in dashing cyberpunk regalia complete with top hat and cyber parts, she a space princess, as family and friends, as assorted fantasy characters, and an officiating Jedi, look on.

They were interrupted by a commotion outside as a number of students were attempting to tip over 1929 MacKenzie-Trench design police box, which had mysteriously found itself on the college green.

"I guess this must be goodbye", said Herbert. "Doctor, Miss Ace... er, I mean, Ace."

"It was a pleasure serving under you, Herbert... I mean Sir!", smiled Ace.

Ace leapt into a hug, and this time Herbert felt no apprehensions. The Doctor gave a "farewell" and raised his hat with a wink. He propped his umbrella beneath his arm and moments later, Herbert was alone, alone but... at peace.

It was a glorious summer day, the sun just heading toward its last quarter. As The Doctor and Ace made their way between the clusters of excitable students who had taken to the green, toward the growing throng of Tardis-tippers, they couldn't help but think of the preciousness of this time; young men and women with their lives stretched out before them. The seemingly endless possibilities, the self-discovery, the romances, the adventures...

But there was adventures of their own to be had.


End file.
